Mind of Ice
by A. Kingsleigh
Summary: There's a lot of secrets in the Weselton Asylum for Troubled Girls; the wonders of the new therapies, the recipe for the patients' favorite soup, the scrubbed-off writing on the walls, the screams from the cellar as the surgeons work. But the girl locked away at the top of the stairs? She holds the key to the coldest secret of all. An AU in more ways than one.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: Frozen belongs to Disney, not me.**

* * *

**Northumberland, 1832**

* * *

The moorland was frightened. An icy wind cut through the gentle heat of the summer night, and the flora and fauna shuddered under its blade. The grass looked grey and dead in the moonlight. The animals scrambled into their holes and cautiously peeked out, trembling. All the land seemed to be holding its breath in anticipation of something dark and terrible and very, very cold.

The coal miners took no notice. Their thoughts were focused only on thoughts of home as they slowly shuffled away from the dusty, dangerous caverns from which they had managed to escape and see another night. Soot covered their faces. One hand held a pickaxe slung over their shoulders, and the other hand held a lantern that cast a weak, flickering circle of light around them. _"Come again, that I may cease to mourn through thy unkind disdain,"_ they sang, turning their eyes towards Heaven. _"For now left and forlorn, I sit, I sigh, I weep, I faint, I die in deadly pain and endless misery."_

At the end of the solemn procession, a tiny boy and a foal struggled to keep up because they had nowhere else to go. A pickaxe that was a little too large for the child rested on his shoulder, occasionally beginning to slip off before being jostled back into place. Both boy and horse stared with pride at the single lump of coal in the former's hand, the lump he had spent all day trying to break free. "Come along, Sven!" he said, holding it closer to him as they hurried to stay close to the men.

_"Gentle Love, draw forth thy wounding dart, thou canst not pierce her heart…"_

* * *

Beyond the hills and across the wide river, all of Arendelle was in slumber. The curtains on the windows were all drawn tight, and the houses of the tiny village seemed to lean against one another with exhaustion. Only the tall house of red brick, with its round gables and the stone lions that flanked the front steps, stood apart from the rest. In the highest window, a little girl with a mop of red hair sat and watched the bright stars with wide eyes before scurrying to her sister's bed. "Elsa? Elsa, wake up, wake up!"

The older, yellow-haired girl smiled but kept her eyes closed. "Anna, go back to sleep."

"But I can't!" Anna replied, prostrating herself atop Elsa. "I want to play!"

"Go play by yourself." Elsa shoved her off the bed and began to drift off once more.

Anna scowled and furrowed her little face, thinking to herself. After a moment, she brightened up once more as the perfect idea came to her. Crawling back onto Elsa's bed, she lifted one of her sister's eyelids. "Do you want to build a snowman?"

Both of Elsa's eyes opened, and the corners of her mouth turned up into a mischievous grin. It worked every time.

* * *

"Come on come on come on come on!" Anna cried, pulling Elsa by the arm as they tiptoed down the hall in their snow boots. They hurried down the staircase which wound like a semicircle into the front room, giggling to themselves and to each other. "Do the magic! Do the magic!" Anna said when they had reached the bottom of the steps.

Elsa nodded and waved her hands together. Tiny glowing snowflakes burst out of thin air and danced between her palms, swirling together into a snowball. "Are you ready?" Elsa asked. When her sister nodded, she threw it up into the air. It exploded like a firecracker, raining snow down on them.

Anna shrieked with joy. "This is wonderful!"

"Watch _this,_ then!" Elsa stomped her foot down, and a thin layer of ice spread out from where she stood, coating the floor. Anna slid around, laughing and clapping her hands.

More snow was in order next, snow which they piled into misshapen lumps and stacked atop one another. Two sticks became its arms, two lumps of coal its eyes, a carrot its nose. Grabbing the arms from behind, Elsa moved them up and down. "Hello, I'm Olaf!" she said in a low voice, "and I like warm hugs!"

"I love you, Olaf!" Anna declared. Elsa propelled her around the room as she skated with the snowman. He was soon lovingly placed aside in favor of a snowbank for sliding down. Anna was thrown across the room by their ride and landed in another drift, and this gave her an idea. "Catch me!" she said, climbing to the top of the drift and jumping off.

Elsa waved her hands, and another peak rose from the ice for her sister to land on. "There you are!"

"Again! Again!" Anna jumped once more, and Elsa caught her once more. As they went in a circle around the room, the peaks became higher and Anna jumped faster.

Elsa's smile began to fade to a worried frown. "Anna, slow! I can't keep up!" As she stepped forward to catch her sister again, her foot touched ice. She slipped and fell. Anna was nearly as high as the ceiling now, and she jumped before she could realize that there was nothing to catch her. _"Anna!"_ Elsa shouted, reaching out her hand in a futile gesture.

A bolt of white shot from her palm, and it caught Anna in the side of her head. She was unconscious before she hit the floor.

Elsa gasped and hurried to her side, gathering her up in her arms. "Anna…?" Perhaps, by some miracle, she was unharmed.

It was not to be. On the side where Anna had been struck, the red drained from a streak of her hair and left it white.

Tears welled up in Elsa's eyes. "Mama! _Papa!"_ As she cried, the whole room frosted over and sharp spikes began to jut from the walls and ceiling.

Their parents, the ties of their robes hastily done, appeared at the top of the stairs. When they saw the state of the room, they gasped. "Elsa, what have you done?" her father said as they ran down the stairs.

"It was an accident," Elsa said through her sobs as they took her sister away. "I'm sorry, Anna…"

Their mother felt Anna's forehead. "She's ice cold."

"Put her to bed in our room. I'll build up the fire."

Elsa stood up, sniffling. "What can I do, Papa?"

"Go back to bed, Elsa," he told her. "Stay in your room until I come for you." And just like that, they were gone.

Elsa's legs wobbled and gave out, and she sank to her knees. The tears continued to flow silently from her eyes as she watched Olaf fall apart.

* * *

_"There?"_ Elsa cried, flinching at the mere mention of the house across the street. "Why must I go there? I'm not mad!"

"I know you aren't," her father said. "It will only be for a day **— **a few days, at most. They have new treatments there, Elsa. They can help you control yourself."

She nodded, but on the inside, she was vigorously shaking her head. Few things frightened her more than looking out her window and seeing that house stare back at her.

It was really two houses, separated by only a few feet of grass. On the left was the house she feared, and on the right was the house of those who ran it. Both were made of gray stone and black tile, with two pointed gables like glaring eyes. A wrought iron fence topped with sharp, spear-like points surrounded them, and the grass within the confines of their yards was ugly and brown. On the house she feared, all the windows had bars on them. Above the gate was an arch, and inside it, the iron spelled out **WESELTON ASYLUM FOR TROUBLED GIRLS.**

She dressed slowly and quietly, saving the gloves her father had given her for last. Anna was still in her parents' bed, and she began to walk towards the door to say goodbye, but he ushered her down the stairs and out into the cold morning. "You'll see her again before long."

The front door of the asylum creaked as they pushed it open. The wallpaper of the parlor was gray with white stripes, and an eerie silence hung in the air - the silence of noise being repressed rather than no noise at all. An old, gaunt maid appeared in the doorway and beckoned to them, and they followed her down the hall. She pointed to a door, then left as they stepped inside.

Mr. Weselton's office was no livelier than his parlor. A mahogany desk took up most of the room, and the rest was taken up by the fireplace behind it, the two chairs in front of it and the bookshelves surrounding it. A young boy with red hair and green eyes was standing in the chair behind the desk sifting through papers. When the door opened, he looked up, smiled and waved at the visitors. "Hello!"

Elsa smiled shyly and waved back. "Hello…"

The door in the back of the room slammed open, and a little old man stormed in. _"Hans!"_ he snapped. "Leave us."

The boy's face paled, and he scurried out of the room through the back door, keeping his head down the whole time.

Weselton gave him a little push as he left before shutting the door and sitting down at the desk. "Forgive my son, Mr. Andersen," he said. "Children should be neither seen nor heard, yes?"

He tried not to look uncomfortable. "Perhaps…"

"A problem with little Elsa, I see?" he asked, stroking his mustache as he looked at her.

"Of sorts. She has these…"

"Hallucinations? Voices in her head? Independent thoughts?"

"Show him, Elsa."

With trembling hands, Elsa took off one of her gloves and conjured up a few flakes which she molded into a snowball.

Weselton tensed up, his eyes bulging from their sockets. "I see…"

"Is there anything you can do for her?"

"I'm a very busy man, you know," Weselton said, keeping a hesitant eye on Elsa. _"But,_ I will make time in my schedule for you. Would you object to us keeping her for a time?"

"I've brought her lunch pail," Mr. Andersen said, holding it up.

"Very good," he answered, taking it. "Come along, Elsa!"

Her father knelt down in front of her. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Just do what Mr. Weselton and his assistants say. Your mother and Anna and I will be waiting for you when you come home."

Elsa threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. "I love you, Papa…"

"And I don't have all day," Weselton said as he glared at her. "Come along."

Reluctantly pulling away from him, Elsa followed her new caretaker into the bowels of the asylum.

"You are to wait in the room I send you to," Weselton said was they were far away from the door. "Do you understand?"

"I don't trust you," she muttered under her breath.

He raised an eyebrow. "What did your father just tell you, Elsa?"

"...To do what you said."

"Well, there you are, then." He tossed the lunch pail under his shoulder, paying no attention as it clattered to the floor, its contents spilling out. "You won't be needing that." He pushed her in front of him as they ascended winding flights of stairs, going up to a lonely door at the top of the house. Opening it, he pushed her into a bare, drafty attic and locked her in.

"Do you know when you'll be ready for me?" she asked, but no answer came. He was already gone.

The only piece of furniture in the room was a bed with a single blanket. Sitting on it, she folded her arms in her lap and waited. The day turned to night, then back to day, then night again, and still she waited…

* * *

When Anna finally opened her eyes, she screamed. "Elsa! Where's Elsa?"

Her parents came running. "Are you alright, dear?"

She recoiled at the sight of them. "Who are you?"

"...Don't you know us?"

She shook her head. "Where's Elsa?" Who _was_ Elsa?

Mr. Andersen sat on the edge of the bed. "Do you know your name?"

"Anna."

"Do you know anything else?"

"...Someone called Elsa…"

"Anything else?"

She thought for a moment before shaking her head. Her mother buried her face in her hands and cried, but her father furrowed his brows and tried to think. "I know where we need to take you," he said at last.

Anna clung to him out of confusion as he carried her across the street and into the asylum. She was handed over to a stern-looking woman in black, heard something about amnesia and was quickly swept away to a little room with bars on the window. She watched the sky turn from blue to orange and violet before the woman returned for her. "It's time for supper."

She was herded into a large room filled with tables and scraggly girls of all ages hunched over bowls of gray slop. The few who looked at her shook their heads and looked down. She paid no notice to them, however; her eyes were fixed on the blonde girl in blue at the other end of the room. There was something familiar about her, she thought as she subconsciously touched the streak of white in her hair.

Elsa froze when her gaze met Anna's. "What is she doing here?" she asked, tapping another girl on the shoulder.

The girl looked up and down again. "Can't remember a thing, they say. Nothin' except her name an' someone else's."

Elsa could feel the ice forming at the tips of her fingers beneath the gloves. _This is my fault._ When Anna began to weave her way through the crowd towards her, she turned away and hurried for the door.

* * *

_Knock, knock, knock!_ "Elsa? That is your name, yes? I know we haven't really spoken before, but I'd like to be your friend. My name is Anna. Do you want to build a snowman? It's snowing, and they're letting us go outside! Won't you come out? I think you'll like it."

"Go away, Anna."

"...Alright. Goodbye."

* * *

The girl's persistence did not decrease with her age.

_Knock, knock, knock!_ "Elsa! We've found a bike, and there's room for two! Would you like to ride it with me?"

"No thank you."

She frowned. "Edwina was talking to the pictures, and they said you would."

"Then they were wrong. Please go away."

"Shall I come back tomorrow, then?"

* * *

No one knew how it started. A lit cigar, perhaps, or a few stray sparks from a fireplace. The more daring citizens of Arendelle suggested that it was set, but this never got beyond whispers. However it had started, there had been no stopping it. The Andersen house had been consumed by fire in less than an hour, taking its master and mistress with it. The last thing on the people's minds during it all had been the asylum, but some of them swore afterwards that they had heard screaming coming from its attic.

Anna had not approached the door in nearly a year, but some part of her knew that she would be approaching it now whether she had the errand or not. _Knock, knock, knock._ "Elsa?" When she heard the rustle of movement behind the door she knelt down and slipped the piece of paper under the door. "Hans and I made this. We heard you were upset about what happened. I'm here for you if you need me, you know."

She paused, then sat down and leaned against the door. "I...I don't really know what to do. Do you…?" She began to cry. "...Do you want to build a snowman?"

She stayed that way until the orderlies found her asleep and took her back to her room. If the door had opened, she would have found a room covered in frost and a girl weeping all through the night.


	2. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER: Frozen belongs to Disney, not me.**

* * *

**1845**

* * *

The nurse paused and turned her head at the whisper which slipped from the dormitory she had just walked past. Walking back to it and grabbing the doorknob, she pushed the door open and cast the light of her candle over the rows of beds. A twitch here, a snore there, but nothing more.

_"Hmmm."_ She held the light over a mop of tangled red hair for several seconds. When its owner did not move, she nodded to herself and shut the door. The room sighed with relief as her footsteps faded away.

The owner of the red hair slowly sat up in her bed and grinned. Tucking the lone streak of white behind her ear, she reached underneath her pillow and pulled out a small bundle of matches. The other women pulled their sheets a little closer as she leapt out of bed, crept to the center of the room and knelt down. The nails in three of the bent floorboards had been torn up long ago, and she carefully lifted them out of place before sticking her head through the resulting hole.

Below her lay another dormitory, one where the little faces of the beds' occupants eagerly stared up at her. "Hello, Anna!" they whispered.

"Evening, ladies." Sliding herself through the hole, Anna dropped into the younger girls' room and landed silently on her feet. The years of practice had served her well. "How's Gertrude tonight?"

"Doing worse," one of the children answered, her face falling. She pointed to a bed in the corner, where a girl of about six with curly dark hair lay coughing and whimpering.

Anna held up the bundle of matches. "Well, we'll just have to fix that." She sat on the bed next to the girl and gently stroked her hair. "Gertrude? Are you awake?"

Gertrude slowly opened her watery eyes. "Anna…?"

"I have a present for you." Taking out one of the matches, Anna struck it against the wall.

Gertrude's pale face lit up at the sight of the fire. "You brought them!" Sitting up, she took the match and stared at the flame, entranced. "How did you manage it?"

"Sharp eyes and quick fingers. And luck doesn't hurt," Anna answered, tapping the side of her nose. "Now I've only time for one story," she continued, addressing the whole room. "What shall it be?"

They crowded around her, climbing into her lap and kneeling at her feet. "The Snow Queen! Tell us about the Snow Queen, Anna."

"What, _again?"_ she asked in mock exasperation.

They only nodded. "It's the one you tell best."

"Very well. Gather 'round, quiet. Now...do you know what snowflakes are very much like?" They all knew the answer, but this was how the story always began. "...Bees! They're always flitting about when they're in the air, and they can sting you until you're miserable if there's enough of them. There's one more thing, too. The bees have a queen, yes? Then logically, the snow has one as well."

The girl in Anna's lap tugged at one of her braids. "Is she like a bee, too?"

"She is, and yet she isn't. The Snow Queen is the most beautiful lady in the world. Her skin is made of the purest ice, and her hair is white. She wears a long, blue fancy dress and lives in a palace far up in the mountains, where no one can find her. She can conjure up ice and snow whenever she wants, and when winter comes, she flies around the world and shares her gift with everyone. She can never remain quietly on the earth, but goes up again into the black clouds. Many a winter's night she flies through the streets of the town, and peeps in at the windows. Then they freeze in so wondrous a manner that they look like flowers!"

"How do you know all this, Anna?" one of the girls asked. It was not a line in the game they played, but a real question.

"Because Anna has seen the Snow Queen!" another answered proudly. "Haven't you, Anna?"

Anna paused, and her hand went up to touch the streak in her hair. "Well...a few times, when it's all quiet and dark. She sees me sneaking around, comes right at me and…" And then I wake up. "...then she flies away."

"I've seen her!"

"No, you haven't!"

"Yes, I have!"

As the girls fell to squabbling, Anna gave Gertrude another pat and slipped away. Climbing atop a stool, she hoisted herself back into her own room and replaced the boards. She was asleep as soon as she crawled back in bed, and before long, she was dreaming of the girl dressed in ice.

Far above the dormitories, in the shadowy attic, a woman tossed and turned and dreamed of what she had lost.

* * *

The next morning, there was not a cloud in the sky. The sun beat down warmer than it ever had upon Arendelle. Wagons from the surrounding farms and smaller towns rolled over the hills. People jumped out and ran towards the cluster of tents and stands between the village and the river. "Why must I be dressed up, Mother?" a boy asked as the tight new shoes he wore pinched his toes and nearly made him trip.

"There hasn't been a fair in three years."

"That isn't my fault!"

Within the boundaries of Arendelle itself, the newcomers swarmed the streets. Some popped in and out of the shops, while others marveled at the pair of marble fountains which had been erected for the occasion. One had a plaque reading **IN MEMORY OF EDMUND AND CHARITY ANDERSEN,** and the other had one reading **PAID FOR BY GEORGE WESELTON.**

A passing of the torch, or perhaps the torch being snatched away.

Most of the people, however, were crowded around the asylum. All were looking at the gates that would soon swing open. **PRESENTATION TODAY,** a sign hanging from them read. "Look!" a man shouted, pointing upwards. "I can see one of 'em!"

Elsa briskly closed the curtains and backed away from the window. There was no getting out of this, was there?

She sat on her bed and tried not to squirm. Her hair had been swept back and pulled into a bun so tight that it ached. Her black dress hung down to the floor and tried to drag her with it. These she would have happily endured, though, if only the embroidered green gloves would vanish.

With shaking hands, she slowly pulled one of them off and lightly touched the bedpost. _Conceal it. Don't feel it. Don't let it show…_

Her fingers vibrated, and a sheet of ice spread out from her skin to cover the metal.

The familiar knocking startled her and made frost line the edges of the ceiling and walls. "Elsa? Are you alright?"

"Y-Yes, Anna! Go away!"

"I only wanted to make sure you were ready."

"Nearly," she answered, quickly shoving the glove back on. "Please go."

"...Aren't you excited?"

"Yes." She had as much choice in the matter as she'd had in everything else.


	3. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

* * *

"Wake up! Everyone wake up! It's nearly time!"

Anna's feet hardly seemed to touch the floor as she ran from the dormitories to the dining room to the kitchen and back around again. Her chirps echoed through the halls incessantly, sounding to the unreceptive ears of the asylum like a broken cuckoo clock. "It's fair day!" she shouted. "Why aren't you getting ready?"

She had picked out a short, light blue dress with a lacy white pinafore and stockings with black stripes. Her old shoes had been rubbed with a cloth until they gleamed. She ducked in and out of each door, helping the girls who were getting dressed and pulling those still asleep out of bed. "Mildred, you've got that on backwards. Do you need some help with that bow, Clara? Louise, how _does_ your hair become knotted so?"

The children gleefully absorbed her joy and followed her around once they too were ready. Some of the older inmates join in as well, but most sneered and shut their doors in her face when she came for them. _She thinks they will let her into the village,_ they whispered. _She thinks she will finally be shown mercy._

"I can see them!" one girl shouted as she peeked through a window at the yard. "They're opening it!"

Two nurses were going down the walkway to the gate. When they reached it, they removed the padlock and slowly pulled apart the two halves of the iron barrier. The rusty metal screamed in protest as it moved, only to be drowned out by the cheers of the crowd as they flowed into the yard.

Shrieking with joy, the girls came stampeding from the dormitories in a mangled procession of colors and bodies. They overwhelmed the orderlies as they crowded into the foyer and spilled out onto the lawn, waving and calling out to the visitors. At the front of the pack was Anna, skipping towards the newcomers even as they started to back away. "Don't be afraid!" she told him. "Come in! We've all been waiting for you!"

"...You're not dangerous?" a boy asked, sounding somewhat disappointed. He looked at the large stick in his hand with dejection.

"Just a little nervous, I should think. Do come in, the presentation's starting soon. Mildred, why don't you show the other children inside?"

A pack of boys and girls, all large and still a bit grubby, detached from the crowd and advanced on the waifish child. She folded her shaking hands behind her back and managed a smile. "Hello…"

The boy from before looked her over, smiled, then raised his stick and jabbed her in the stomach. "Look, Mum!" he said happily as she doubled over, crying out in pain. "They're so mad they don't even fight!" He raised the stick for another blow, only to have Anna jerk it from his hands and snap it in two. _"Hey!"_

"That is _no_ way to be treating anyone," she told him, the storm of rage swirling inside her manifesting in the twitching of her face. "Apologize at once."

The boy kicked her in the leg with enough force to send her stumbling to the stony ground. "Mildred," she hissed through her clenched teeth as she tried to stand, "go back inside. All of you, back inside. I'll have this sorted out before long..._ouch!_ W-What are you doing? No, _no!_ Please, that _hurts…!"_

The girls fled, screaming and crying. Anna's cries for help were lost in the mass of people that surround her, laughing and wielding more sticks. Her vision became a blurry sea of jeering faces. She shielded her face, but that did nothing to allay the jabs and knocks from the sticks. The nurses stared on, their faces unmoving.

"Please," she whimpered. "Someone help…"

**POW!**

The attackers froze as a shotgun went off behind them. "Get away from her!"

Anna dared to open her eyes. She knew that voice.

"Inside!" he shouted at the people as he waved the gun around, trying and failing to pretend it had another bullet. "You'll have no more sport here."

They glared at him, but dropped their sticks and shuffled through the door all the same. When they were gone, he turned to the nurses. "And what have you been doing?" The women bowed their heads in feigned shame and walked away.

Anna sat up. "Hans?"

The red headed young man stood over her, holding out a hand. "Are you alright?" he asked worriedly.

Grabbing his hand, she struggled to her feet. There were bruises on her arms, a tear in her dress and a thin line of blood trickling from the side of her head. "I...I'll be fine." _Don't you** dare** cry in front of him._

He took off one of his gloves and held it against her head. "I-I should have gotten here before they opened the gates **—** "

Anna lightly punched him on the shoulder. "What have I told you about unnecessary apologizing?"

"Anna, you're _bleeding."_

_"Were,"_ she retorted, pulling the glove away. Her head still ached._ Enough moaning,_ she silently told it. "I suppose Byron locked you in the drawing room again. I won't tell a soul," she added as he looked down guiltily.

"I don't think there's anyone to keep it secret from by now."

"Haven't you told your father? He'd put a stop to it."

"I have."

"Oh, must I do everything myself?" she said overdramatically, and they both laughed. Her face grew solemn again, however. "They called us mad."

"They're wrong, Anna."

"It doesn't matter. They'll complain to the staff now. We'll be shut in for the rest of the day! The older girls'll blame me and throw me in the closet again and go after Gertrude and - "

Hans grabbed her shoulders and held her still. "The presentation hasn't even started. They'll forget soon enough."

"Are you sure?"

"You're acting like you did something wrong. Listen; if they bother you again, just tell me and I'll let Father know of it. I'll even put someone in front of Gertrude's room if you're worried. Does that make you feel **—** "

He was cut off as Anna threw her arms around him. _"Yes!_ Oh, thank you! I mean, er, I'm very grateful." Stepping back, she curtsied awkwardly. "No one saw that, did they? Not that I really care. I mean, I do care, just not about me. I care about you. Not like that! Just…you know."

"I understand," he answered, smiling. "We have a few more minutes before they start, don't we?"

"I think so, why?"

"There's...there's something I need to tell you about," he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Well, what is it?"

"I'm…"

"You two!" A nurse was standing in the doorway glowering at them. "Get to the cellar. They're starting."

"Yes, ma'am! You'll tell me this evening, won't you? Good." With another curtsey, Anna hurried back inside.

"Get someone to bandage your head!" Hans shouted after her. It took him a few seconds to remember that he had been called for as well. As he began to run, his foot landed on one of the sticks. _Oh no._ Any chance of a subsequent thought was snuffed out by the ground rushing up to greet him.

As Anna walked down the halls and steps to the cellar, her pace slowed. She let her shoulders droop, and her gaze fell to the floor as a few wayward sobs choked their way out of her throat. _I thought they would be so nice...like him._


	4. Chapter 3

**WARNING: This is probably the most depraved thing I've ever written. Proceed with caution.**

**DISCLAIMER: If you recognize it, I don't own it.**

* * *

There were two worlds in the asylum basement. When you dared to descend the stairs and step through the door, you found yourself staring on to a sunken little circle of a stage. The floorboards were scrubbed and polished raw, and in the center was a chair next to a stand of tools. Surrounding them were rows of bleachers with metal rails which forced them back against the white curtain dividing the room.

Everything beyond that was Hell, or something indistinguishable from it.

"You will step forward will Mr. Weselton calls for you," the nurse snapped at the assembled girls, who were looking everywhere but at her. "You will obey the assistants, and you will under _no _circumstances attempt to fight. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, ma'am," they murmured, crowding closer together. She gave them another withering glance before leaving. A few seconds later, the guests began to file into the operating theater.

The girls stared at the curtain and watched the strange shadows pass, not sure whether or be scared or interested. Those standing near Elsa kept shivering, and some sat down to rest their feet. All the chairs were still stained with blood and scented with death. Shreds of wind whistled through cracks in the bricks - or perhaps the ghosts still weren't done screaming. _It would explain why Emily is covering her ears,_ Anna thought as she gathered the little ones around her. "You're not to look," she whispered to them. "None of you."

On the other side of the curtain, the audience applauded as Mr. Weselton entered. He marched to the center of the stage, flanked by his two eldest sons, and held up a hand for silence. "Gentlemen," he said. "An insidious malady is weaving its way into the heads of our poor, unfortunate ladies. Oh, scoff if you wish! Listen to the lies that they might tell you! It is an indisputable truth that madness can grasp any of them, at any time! Do you not believe this? Then allow me to present the victims of this monster! The curtain, _please!"_

The girls flinched as the brothers ripped down the barrier keeping them safe. Several of them scattered and scrambled for the door, only to run into the prods of the orderlies lining the walls. The audience gasped and laughed nervously as the inmates were pushed and dragged screaming back onstage.

Weselton grimaced at the sound. "Nothing to fear, nothing to fear! The concept of purposeful aggression is quite a strain on their minds. A tragic sight, really. But do not despair, dear friends! All is not lost for these souls. That is why they are here. And that is why you are here, to witness as we demonstrate the miraculous new procedures we are developing to cure them. You are here to witness the future!"

The audience cheered, the girls cowered and Hans sank a little lower in his seat.

Weselton smiled and continued while the orderlies undid the clasps on the chair. "The method of treatment is derived from the origin of the affliction. Phrenological study has conclusively proved that the capacity for self-esteem is located on the top of the head and above the back of the skull." He clapped his hands, and two orderlies descended on Mildred. "Depression, therefore, is caused by a deficiency in the workings of self-esteem."

"I-I only want my mama and papa!" she shouted, clinging to Anna as tears streamed down her face. "Tell them, Anna!" The orderlies pulled them apart, dragged her to the chair and strapped her in with leather buckles.

"The blood in this section of the brain is clotted and must be broken up," Weselton continued. His sons pulled a wooden box on wheels out of the shadows. There was a lever on the side, and out of the top came wires attached to a metal headband. This was shoved on the still-squirming girl. "Only a simple application of electricity is required! Observe!"

He pulled the lever down, and Mildred screamed in agony as sparks flew from the box. "Quiet, you," he snapped, holding the lever in place and prolonging the shocks. "In truth, the process is completely harmless. The inmates firmly believe that their madness is but our delusion, and all treatment is met with resistance." He let the lever go, and Mildred crumpled into a trembling heap. "Will you eat now, child?" he said as he leaned over her.

She was too weak to do anything except nod, and a nurse carried her out of the room. Her companions crowded around Anna, who held them tight and glared at Weselton. "You said you wouldn't use any of them — "

"Thankfully, madness of this variety can be handled with little fuss," Weselton continued. "Matters of secretiveness require more drastic persuasion."

That, he said, was due to a buildup of blood in the lower temples. Therefore, it was _perfectly_ fine to strap Adelaide to the chair and gag her while dozens of leeches made a home of her face and arms. The young woman struggled and screamed while her friends cowered in the corner. The spectators applauded.

"Sir! Sir!" a man said, jumping up and waving his arms about. "I have a question!"

"Questions must be saved for the end of the presentation. But I will make an exception for an extra tuppence. What do you wish to know?"

"How large is a lady's brain?"

"A fine question! It is, in fact, quite small. I shall show you." He motioned to the orderlies, who advanced upon the girls and grabbed an older, wild-eyed one. She screamed, bit and kicked as they strapped her down. Dunking a rag in chloroform, they pressed it on her face until they stopped flailing.

"Aggression," Weselton said as Anna made the younger girls turn around, "is found deeper in the brain, on the left lobe. Mere electricity and bloodletting cannot penetrate it. No, the only prolonged response is…" He paused for effect. "...surgical removal." He clapped his hands, and a nurse rolled out a tray of sharp, rusting tools. "It's simple, really. Only a matter of removing the top of the skull and snipping out the defective area."

"An' what'll she be like when you're done?" someone asked.

"Like Patient Number 4 here," Weselton answered.

Anna stood. "Her name's Doris."

The orderlies pushed her aside and pulled a skeletal young woman from the back of the group. They led her along by one hand while she stared forward blankly, stumbling a bit. When they propped her before the audience, she blinked and began to look around.

"Docile as a lamb," Weselton said proudly. "Never even speaks. She's lived the longest so far, too. A whole year after her operation and lively as ever!"

Doris touched the left side of her head, wondering in vain what she had lost. Elsa turned away from the sight as her hands started to ice over.

"Today's operation shall be our fifth," said Weselton, "and the first made available to the public."

It dragged on for a bloody, messy and intolerable hour. The floor ran red and grey. Anna held the children close. The audience leaned forward excitedly. When it was finally over, they cheered and the doctors bowed.

An old woman in finery turned up her nose and waved a perfumed handkerchief in front of it. "Good sir, have you not something more pleasurable to the senses?"

"There is indeed one more event scheduled," Weselton said as the prone girl was wheeled away. He pulled out a pocketwatch and shined it. "A demonstration of mesmerism. Anna?"

Elsa stiffened, and Anna backed away. "_Me?"_

"Come here, child."

Gulping, she stepped forward and took his outstretched hand. The children clung to her skirts and tried to drag her back, but he swept them away. "This poor creature," he said to the audience, "has no memory of anything before her fifth year."

Elsa shut her eyes and tried in vain to control her breathing. _Conceal._

Weselton seated Anna in the chair and opened the pocketwatch. "Our sessions have made little progress in uncovering the secrets within her mind. Perhaps today shall be different." Pushing Anna back in the chair, he held the watch in front of her face and let it swing. "Relax, child…"

_Don't feel._

Anna's eyes slowly closed, and her head slumped to the side. "Can you hear me?" Weselton asked.

"...Yes." Her voice was faint and airy.

"Tell me what you see."

"...A house...an old red house…"

"Good. Now go inside."

"...I'm frightened…"

"Go inside _now, _Anna."

She paused, then nodded. "I see…"

"Yes?"

"...I see snow…"

Weselton stared at her as some of the audience members chuckled. "Inside the house?"

"Snow and ice…"

"Tell us the truth, you stupid girl."

Veins of ice were beginning to spread out from Elsa's feet. _Don't feel. Don't feel!_

"Not my fault...she's making it…"

"Who is?"

"Little girl...wants to play...do you want to build a snowman…?"

Now the spectators laughed outright. Weselton's face was turning red. "That's enough!" Raising a hand, he struck Anna across the face. The crack echoed through the room, and Anna snapped out of her trance with a shriek of pain. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, holding a hand to the red swelling on her cheek.

Weselton dragged her out of the chair and shoved her into the arms of the orderlies. "Shut this one in the dormitory. I don't want her going out this evening." Anna's protests were muffled with a gag as he turned back to the crowd. "I am afraid that concludes our presentation. Those with questions may now ask them…"

Elsa was standing in a thin sheet of ice, fists still clenched. No one had noticed, but at that moment, she wouldn't have cared. Her eyes were focused on Anna. And from the moment she woke up to the moment she was carted out the door. Anna's eyes were focused on her.

* * *

**...I feel like I need to bump up the rating on this. Thoughts?**


End file.
